Northern Downpour
by imaginethesedorks
Summary: What would have happened if Drew had stayed away from the van for just a little while longer. Set during Season 13, Episode 6 "Cannonball". Smut. Adam x Imogen.


(A/N: my plot bunny for what would have happened in the van if Adam and Immy hadn't been interrupted. I always thought that scene was so hot – and Adam deserved one last... hurrah before he died. Hope you like it –Tanisha3)

...

The rain was beating down so hard from the sky it practically chased them into the back of the van as Imogen pulled the doors closed behind them. Still pounding hard on the metal roof and the hallow windows of the old white vehicle, it was like a section of brass playing along perfectly with the wood winds of their airy laughter.

"Sorry we didn't get to see that majestic view," Adam filled the space easily, his smile stretching his cheeks to the point of near pain, despite the water dripping down his back and the soggy pants that he was sitting in. Staring at a gorgeous girl, being close enough to her to feel her breath cascading onto his skin in short puffs could have that effect on a guy.

She was quickly shedding her glasses, now too spotted with water to see properly, and taking her hair from the pigtails to let it hang soaked around her shoulders. Now there was no obstruction of her natural beauty, glistening, tanned, that shine in her eyes. She was absolutely stunning. Adam didn't know why he hadn't seen it before.

"The view's pretty good in here, too." Her reply was quick, with her smile just as wide, showing in her expression and in her words that the rain really hadn't dampened their current situation.

He couldn't stop staring at her. That _smile_ , those _eyes_. He couldn't stop staring at her... Surely he was turning all the water on his body to steam with the way he was starting to blush.

He was promptly brought back down to earth when he noticed a jolt; a shiver running up her body. Of course – with the wet clothes on her body; it's not like it was that warm in the van. She probably wasn't regulating her body temperature like he was with such _impure_ thoughts.

"You're freezing," Adam was glad his tongue was co-operating with his mind. And it seemed his hands were, too. Easily grabbing one of the woolly camp blankets from where it was tucked up beside some other supplies.

She didn't take it right away.

"Okay. Lemme get out of my wet clothes first," Imogen mumbled this sentence out, already fighting with the hem of her camp counsellor tee shirt. She seemed to not care at all that Adam was there. She seemed to not care at all if he looked or not. She seemed to not care at all that the wet yellow fabric peeling off her tan skin like some kind of pornographic banana was the best thing Adam had been outside the internet.

He was torn. He shouldn't look. He glued his eyes to the side of the van, a boring, gray panel that held absolute no interest with him. It was the gentlemen-ly thing to do.

But... would she really mind him looking? Especially if she was stripping her clothes off willingly in front of him? Probably not. This was Imogen. She didn't care.

Becky wasn't like this. She was easy to figure out. Little Miss Modesty, waiting until marriage; Adam knew his place with her. Keep the kisses sweet, keep his hands in decent places, and he gets all the hand holding he wants. (And he gets off on his own, in private, late at night, feeling increasingly ashamed of his body and his choice of porn.) But Becky wasn't here. She was in _Florida_.

He glanced back. Now his sight was filled with a neon pink bra, which had two pert, golden breasts threatening to spill out of it, and expanses of skin that he never even imagined he would get to see. And of course, the giant yellow tangle of fabric that was clustered together with Imogen's arms and hair as she wrestled her way out of her clothes.

"Oh, I'm stuck! I'm stuck! Help me,"

That was no surprise.

Adam couldn't conjure up a reply, no matter how badly he wanted, his mouth gaping, lips trying to grasp at words – and she leaned forward, seeking out his touch without having to hear any. He was sure he had seen this before, in the intro to a bad porno. It seemed that he couldn't help it, his hands flung to her like magnets, giving the help she requested, detangling her from her hoodie and tee shirt and then releasing her like a hot pot handle when she came up for air.

Imogen was all out there now. Wet tendrils of hair, blushed cheeks, leading down into biteable collar bones and the rapidly rising and falling curve of her tits. Adam let his eyes drink her in like a man stranded in the desert would drink a glass of fresh iced tea, but then he saw her moving to cover herself, ever so slightly.

It was rude to stare. She didn't want him looking at her that way. They were just friends.

He was suddenly very thankful for the gray side panel of the van and for once in his life, the fact that he didn't have a cock. It would be a dead giveaway of his feelings if she noticed him pitching a different kind of tent out in these woods. He swallowed hard, feeling sandpaper against the walls of his throat.

Adam dared to let his eyes wander back to the wet dream that was Imogen Moreno once more. Still wet. Still topless. Still pouting her lips with her dark lashes framing her glassy eyes. Still creating a heat that scraped the inside of Adam's skin like a disease and made him want to scream out for help, and stay so deadly quiet at the same time.

Deadly quiet...

The raindrops playing tin drums on the roof had stopped.

"I... think it stopped raining..." He couldn't be sure. Not with the blood rushing through his ears at top speed.

She was brave. Bold. Herself, never wavering. That made him quiver more, shrink back into his own, made him more scared. But he liked the kind of scared that Imogen made him.

"I hadn't noticed." There it was again. Her voice quiet, but never once retreating from the bold statement she was making.

The breath of it had barely escaped her lips when Adam found himself drawn to that breath. Like a moth to flame, all his weight was pulled to her. His neck was craning, every fiber of his soul shook as the logical part of his mind screamed at him to pull back.

He didn't dare to listen.

It was a small kiss at first. The lightest graze with no ill intention, just strong enough to make a small noise when she pulled back.

He stayed there. Frozen, gut in a bitter twist, waiting. It was a pivotal moment. She would either whip her wet shirt back on over her head and high-tail it out of the van or she would kiss him again. The roaring, undeniable heat between his legs prayed it was the latter.

When Imogen's eyes glossed over and fell closed, and her hands came up to tightly encase the back of his neck, he had his answer. Her face was chilled from the outside, from being soaked, her nose like a tiny ice cube poking up against his cheek, but her lips were so hot. Like the best contrast against his own, which sought hers out like missiles.

And Adam's whole being sought her back. Her heat, her softness, her passion. The sexual tension that had been tightening in his body snapped and he let it take over, pushing himself against Imogen until her back hit the floor of the van. He straddled her easily, crawling until both his legs encased her waist and his weight trapped her where he was.

With his arms on either side of her head and her mouth falling open to let his tongue in, he felt so delightfully like a predator. Like he was truly in control. That her tiny whimpers, her small gasps truly belonged to him.

He felt, for the first time in his life, undeniably and securely, like a man.

"Adam," her breath was stolen by him, leaving the name a hallow groan in her chest. A plea for something she couldn't quite put into words.

He bit gently onto her bottom lip, feeling the word go through him. The way she said it, the way she was trembling beneath him, leaning up to feel more of his body against hers. The heat was now a hard pain between his legs, only fueled by the fact that he had never seen or heard or felt anything like this outside of his dreams.

"What do you want?" He found his voice was a carnal growl from his lips, fueled by the hormones running hard through his veins. A weak whimper echoed back in response, vibrating beautifully against his tongue.

She pulled back from his mouth again, making another lovely, sweet smack sound off the walls of the car.

"You." She whined against his chin. She smoothed her hands up into his wet hair, knocking his hat off, somewhere neither of them cared about. "Touch me, Adam. Please."

Imogen's words flipped a switch in him, igniting the flame, opening the flood gates. This was more than kissing now, this was more than a hot little make-out that he could hold in his memory for when he got lonely. This was... god damn.

He didn't let himself think anymore.

He let his hands lead and his mouth follow. He was sure that Adam Torres left the building and in that moment someone else took over his body. He gripped the stiff underwire of that neon bra, shoving it up her body until her breasts spilled into view, the fabric pooled under her chin, her dark nipples stiff now in the open air. His mouth flung there, sucking onto one of those tight nipples while one of his hands squeezed her other breast with the kind of ferocity that only a teenage boy could.

Her moan was a cluster into the air, a gargle of spit and oxygen rushing from her lungs, a sure sign that she was enjoying this just as much as he was.

But Adam wanted more.

With blood pounding at the top of his head and between his legs still, and with her hands yanking shamelessly on his hair now, he supported his weight on his knees and his hands wandered further down.

Her skirt was an easy obstacle to shed, another bunch of fabric that pooled around her waist this time, and her underwear – his fingers skimmed over lace and he knew he had to get a look. He would have regretted it if he didn't. He pulled back from tonguing her areola to gaze down between her legs.

Fuck.

Baby blue that nowhere near matched her bra, absolutely sheer, enough to have drool pooling in the corners of his mouth. He could see her trimmed patch of dark pubic hair through it, the smallest wet patch on the fabric. But these amazing panties were also in his way. He used both hands on either side and with a small lift of her hips, they were dismissed, hanging around one of her ankles, forgotten like so many other things right now.

He wasted no time in getting to work.

He wanted so badly to explore, to feel around, to take in every little reaction she had to offer him. But time was a precious commodity and she was desperate, on edge for him, ready to start begging if he didn't do something soon.

His thumb found her clit easily, seeing the swollen bead and being now endlessly thankful for his leg up on knowledge of the female anatomy. She jerked at the touch, letting out a high pitched ' _oh_ ', her hands flinging to cover her mouth when she realized just how loud she was.

Adam pressed down on her clit harder.

"Let me hear you." His voice was stern, slow, and calm. A tantalizing mixture of dominance, loosening Imogen's fingers around her mouth enough to let out her pitiful moans. "Let me hear what a slut you are."

This caught them both by surprise. Along with the way he started to churn his thumb in slow, deep circles, winding her body up like a toy.

"Adam." She couldn't help it. Her entire existence was playing a balancing act on his hand now.

He snuck two fingers, pointer and middle, into her leaking cunt, slick and easy, still circling his thumb and feeling up until he hit that spongy bead inside her.

" _Oh_!"

"You like that?" This was definitely not Adam Torres.

"Fuck, oh my god. Yes!" Her eyes fell shut and her head fell back, her body curling, back arching into a beautiful curve. Her knees bent up and legs parted even further, allowing him to rub her clit harder and move his fingers inside her faster. "I'm gonna cum!"

Seeing her like this – wet, swollen, leaking onto his hand. If this was the only chance he'd ever get to taste her, from the smell alone, he knew he wanted to take it.

He put his free hand on her waist and craned his head down, replacing his thumb with his tongue, feeling it radiantly hot and bitter sweet, vibrating her moans against him.

"Adam!"

She took a death grip on his hair, thighs shaking on either side of his head, gushing and wet and spasming hard around his fingers as he fucked her and licked her through her orgasm. Eventually her moans turned into back into tiny gasps and whimpers, and he resolved that it was time to be finished.

Awkwardly wiping his wet fingers off on his pants, and taking in the picture of a spent Imogen Moreno – sweaty, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, lips pouty and parted, nipples still out and stiff, the picture of pure perfection – so he could store it in his mind forever, he knew the moment was over. Whatever slice of paradise they had to themselves in back of the camp van was now over.

Imogen's breath was evening out now, and she opened her eyes, sitting up slightly and turning to Adam to say something.

"That was amazing." She was so beautifully breathless, all he could do was smile. "Now it's your turn."

What?

She had her hands gripping the shoulders of his hoodie and flipping him onto his back before he could blink.

"Imogen – no..." He tried to make an argument against her, mind stuck somewhere between – he had never fooled around with anyone before – he wanted her so damn bad – he had never been naked in front of anyone before – this was like his every wet dream come to life –

She was the one straddling him now. With that glint in her eye that said she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

She kissed him again. Another hot, deep kiss, her tongue barely grazing his lips. She would taste her pussy from his mouth. It was Adam's turn to moan pathetically.

"I wanna do this for you." She whispered the words pointedly against him.

He couldn't argue.

She ran her hands down his front, feeling the stiffness of his binder and teasing along the waistband of his pants.

"You don't have to take off any clothes if you don't want to." She added. Clearly she had thought this through.

"How are you gonna-?"

Before he could entirely pose the question, she was answering it. Ripping opening his belt at lightning speed and tearing down his fly, and then gently pressing her hand past the band of his boxers and cupping him, hot and whole.

He let out a shuddering gasp when he felt it.

"You gave me an amazing orgasm. You deserve one too." She was still bargaining with him. Starting to rub him with her palm slowly, as though he needed any more convincing. "You're the best man I've ever been with, Adam, I couldn't bear to leave you hanging."

Best man. _Man_. Fuck.

"Touch me, Imogen." His voice was a bare rasp and she grinned at the consent, her fingers working magic against him as her mouth descended to bite and suck at his neck.

He was so hot, so wound up that it was only moments before he was weakly humping against her hand. His hands gravitated to her ass, grabbing onto what was still bared and warm, biting his lip to keep from moaning out too shamelessly.

She nibbled her way up to his ear as her hand worked even faster in his pants.

"Are you gonna cum?" Her words were velvet, wrapping around his ear smoothly.

"Fuck! Yes!"

Adam titled his head and forcefully pressed another kiss onto Imogen's lips as his orgasm roared through his body, shaking him to the very core. His groans were quieted by her mouth, the echoes captured by her throat and tongue. She pecked at his mouth slowly, letting his breathing come down as she pulled her hand out of his pants.

Neither of them heard the footsteps coming up on the outside of the van.

When the doors opened, it was a shock of light and crisp outside air that had them both shooting to sit up, Imogen racing to cover herself and Adam racing to see who the hell had disturbed them.

"Sorry!" Drew was making eye contact with the ground as though his life depended on it. "I just... need the... I'll come back later." He shut the doors just as quickly, and left again.

Adam felt a blush come over his face for a whole different reason. Imogen burst into laughter.

"You're seriously laughing?" He gaped at her as he zipped up the fly of his pants.

"You have to admit, it's at least a little bit funny."


End file.
